Passage
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: The final goodbyes... Follows 'Transitions'
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Yes, this is the final story. I had some trouble writing some parts of it, trying not to sound too sappy or anything (I probably failed, but it is the last one...). I'm sure I won't be able to stay completely away from writing FI fanfic, so I'm likely to post now and then in the future with new tales revolving around reminiscences. Some will be reworkings of episodes (at least till I run out of episodes) and others will be original stories set during Leslie's teen years, which would be concurrent with the TV series' run and fill in dates that no first-run episodes were aired. So yes, there is more FI in the future...it just may take a while, with a couple of other writing projects I have going on. So here we go..._

* * *

§ § § - December 31, 2009

Roarke's very last annual New Year's Eve bash was well under way, and it seemed as if the whole island had managed to attend. Christian had said that the crowd reminded him of the attendance at his and Leslie's wedding reception. Despite the festive mood, there was a subtle pall hanging over the whole thing, at least in the case of anyone who was a resident of the island. Christian and Leslie, their children, their friends, the children of their friends, the kitchen staff at the main house, and Rogan, Julie, Rory and Lucan were sitting at a row of tables, pushed together to make one large one, on a raised dais, with Roarke in a chair right in the middle. For after all, despite that no one had said anything, it was a farewell to Roarke just as much as to the old year.

Christian had wandered off somewhere with his friends, and the men were talking and laughing, which startled Leslie a bit every time she heard the bursts of amusement roll up from their cluster. The younger children were playing impromptu yard games such as tag with one another; the older ones were sitting at the tables talking quietly. Leslie and her friends sat in their own cluster, sometimes talking, often just watching people in the ever-shifting conglomeration on the greensward.

Finally Camille said it, in her characteristic blunt way. "So Mr. Roarke's got two weeks left, and then he goes off to his new job, huh?"

Leslie stared at her in sheer surprise; nobody had ever put it quite that way, not even Roarke himself, and the idea made her ponder the coming changes in a whole new light. As Lauren said something in response to Camille's observation, Leslie turned inward, thinking it over. Now that she went back over the conversation Roarke had had with her, Christian and Rogan following their meeting with the tribunal months before, she remembered how Roarke had told them that he still had another fifty years left in his lifespan, roughly speaking, and how he certainly wasn't dying—just being forcibly removed to another plane and another occupation. She pushed her empty piña-colada glass back and forth across the table in front of her, considering the fact that despite the change in stewardship, the whole thing was really not as dead-end final as it had felt all this time. The island would still be here; the resort would still be operating, and fantasies would still be granted. She dared think ahead, for the first time, to the days and weeks following Roarke's ascension to the tribunal, and considered that there would be a good seven months left before she, Christian and the children would have to make their permanent move to Lilla Jordsö. _That'll tell me once and for all,_ she realized. _The way I see everything after Father leaves and before we move will give me some idea of how well I'll take the relocation, won't it? If this place is too full of reminders of Father for me to stand, I may just end up looking forward to the move after all. I bet Christian would be glad to hear that._ She smiled a little, considering the thought. In some odd way, she realized she was looking forward to seeing what the future would hold.

But that didn't mean the goodbyes would be any less painful, and she dreaded them. Roarke had done quite a bit of emotional preparation, especially with the triplets, explaining to them that if they—or more likely their mother—ever had a true and compelling need to confer directly with him, all that needed to be done was to contact the tribunal and he would come with them to try to help. The children interpreted this as Roarke's going away to some remote island somewhere else where he would acquire the power and the knowledge that would allow him to transform into a cloud and float around wherever he liked; it was funny enough that it had provided some lighthearted moments for the adults. Another packet of laughing male voices penetrated the endless chatter of human conversations, and it made Leslie wonder if Christian had told his friends that little story.

Just then she felt a sharp pinch on her arm and yanked aside, knocking over the empty glass. "Ow!" she spouted, spearing Myeko, who sat beside her, with a glare. "What was that for, anyway?"

"To get you back from Never-Never-Land," Myeko said, grinning at her without remorse. "So I hear your committee's all set up and just rarin' to go."

"They're already going," Michiko put in. "We had our first meeting last week, and it looks like we're going to do fine."

"After we sat around figuring out what kind of stuff needed doing and who'd be in charge of what, that is," Camille added with a shrug. It had taken them most of November, even with Roarke's help, to decide what sort of positions the committee should have and who was best suited to fill each one; Camille, who held a degree in accounting, was now the island treasurer and had two assistants to help her, while Michiko—with help from Myeko, whose position at the island newspaper had been reduced to two days a week—was in charge of publicity for the resort as well as collection and distribution of the charter-plane passes, hiring and firing of resort employees, and acquisition of such things as supplies for the bungalows and all the beverages, both alcoholic and not, for the bars and restaurants around the resort. Grady was on the committee as chief of lawmaking and enforcement, with two assistants helping him as well; and there were three more people in charge of seeing that the utilities and civil services were properly managed. All eleven of these people were to send Leslie monthly reports, since she was about to become owner of the entire huge machine; Grady, aware that she had little idea how to wade through it all and have it make sense, had volunteered to collect the reports for her and then translate them into something that made sense before forwarding them on to her, which he would do via e-mail once the Enstads had moved back to Lilla Jordsö. Till then he would do it in person with Christian present, and Leslie had hopes that by then she would have learned how to make head or tail of it all, even in simplified form.

"Someone forgot to tell me," Myeko complained now. "I'm on the damn thing, and you went ahead and had a meeting without me?"

"It was just a preliminary meeting to finalize the assignment of duties and to clarify who does what, and what odds and ends fall under whose aegis," Leslie said, "so you didn't really miss anything. You and Michiko have the easiest part of this job anyway. You just have to keep the resort brochures updated, and make sure the bars and restaurants have stuff for people to drink, and see that all the bungalows have whatever they need—toiletries, linens, fresh flowers, that kind of thing—every week. You also get to decide who works at the resort, and the really tedious job—keeping track of all the charter-plane passes."

Myeko stared at her while the other girls looked at one another, grinning. "What the heck's involved in that?"

"Not that much," drawled Leslie, amused. "Collecting them at the end of each day, making sure there are passes for the gate at the airport in Honolulu and for the ferry terminal, keeping a supply of them for Rogan to send to new guests, having new ones made when old ones wear out. _And_ being sure that the student passes for high-schoolers on Coral Island aren't being used by anybody who isn't actually attending Fantasy Island High."

"Piece of cake," Lauren said, and they giggled when Myeko rolled her eyes.

"Stop complaining," Michiko told her. "You're only my assistant anyway. Maybe just for that, I'll put you in full and sole charge of the passes, and nothing else."

"You do and I'll quit," Myeko said, but she was grinning too. "Okay, all right." She let her gaze stray out over the crowded greensward. "That reminds me of this ancient song lyric from the sixties...'look at all the happy people dancing on the lawn'. What's the bet half of them have no clue why this New Year's party is so huge?"

"It's all the famous people who come here for this bash every year. And incidentally, Grady would tell you that the phrase in question is 'happy creatures', not 'happy people'," said Maureen.

 _"Grady_ would tell me?" Myeko said, and they all laughed. "Hey, Leslie's laughing. That has to mean something good. So now that we're back around to you, what were you sitting there daydreaming about a few minutes ago?"

"Something Camille said," Leslie replied. "You phrased it as Father going off to a new job. It was probably completely arbitrary on your part, but nobody else ever thought to put it that way—and it makes perfect sense. Plus, it sure sounds better." Camille laughed.

"What's this 'tribunal' business supposed to be all about, anyway?" Lauren asked. "Is it some kind of extraterrestrial law-enforcement group, or what?"

"Maybe something sort of like that, but nothing to concern us," Leslie said. "It has more to do with the clans Father's part of. It's a long story, but the way we heard it, they're missing a member and they've selected Father to fill the position, whether he wants to or not. They showed up for our discussion last spring in the form of a bunch of clouds. I guess they could probably take on human forms if they wanted to, but one of them complained he has to rest for days after, so they take the path of least resistance. I don't know...they just all seem to think that Father's time has come, and since they have a vacant spot, they find it convenient to insist that he come with them now."

"I have no idea what all that means," said Tabitha with a shake or two of the head, "but I won't argue with it."

"Believe me, I don't get it either," Leslie assured her.

"You move away to Christian's homeland then?" Katsumi asked.

"Not till August," Leslie told her, and she nodded. "And we're going to bring the kids back here every summer, so for at least part of the year, it'll be like we're home again." She took in her friends' faces. "If you don't have Skype yet, I'd suggest getting it. Christian said he'll see to it that whatever computer he gets for our personal use in Lilla Jordsö will have it, so we'll be able to have video chats on our computers every so often."

"We could do a video conference too," Maureen said thoughtfully. "I mean, if some of us find out we can't Skype, for whatever reasons, we can always arrange in advance that we all gather at the home of somebody who does have Skype, and then you can talk to all of us at the same time. That could be something like a once-a-month thing."

The other girls nodded, and for a while their talk drifted on to things like how the kids were doing in school and what kind of plans they had for the coming weekend before school went back into session the following Monday, January 4. Eventually, though, as the midnight hour approached, the younger children began sidling up to their mothers, yawning and trying to crawl into laps. Leslie glanced at Anastasia, sound asleep in her baby carrier on the tabletop, and wondered how her eight-month-old daughter could possibly sleep through all the noise. She herself was beginning to feel slightly overwhelmed, and had a thought that she might want to seek out Christian and suggest they return home with the children immediately after ringing in the new year.

Karina was the first of the triplets to search out Leslie, who hoisted her daughter into her lap and checked her watch, sighing when she saw there was still almost half an hour to go. "Is it the new year yet?" Karina wanted to know.

"No, we still have time. What happened to Tobias and Susanna?" she asked. Karina only shrugged, and Leslie smiled wryly, not really surprised. "How about Tia?"

"She went to find her mommy too. I just want to go to bed. It's all noisy here and there's too many people."

Leslie smiled again and gently squeezed her. "Tell you what, honey, go find Daddy for me and tell him that both you and I want to go home as soon as the new year is here, okay?" Karina nodded, slid off her lap and edged down the table to bother Christian.

"Tired, is she?" Myeko said with a grin. "She strikes me as more delicate than Susanna and definitely more than Tobias." At Leslie's nod of agreement, her expression got curious. "You think she'll make a decent princess, once she and the other kids start those classes in how to behave like a good royal? And are you gonna have to take them too?"

Leslie giggled. "Me taking Royal Comportment classes? Christian's teased me about it a few times, but I don't think it'll actually happen. He says most of the time things aren't as formal as they were even when he was growing up. He did say that if we do find ourselves at one of these ultra-formal functions, though, he'll give me a crash course in whatever key points he thinks I should know. As for Karina..." She glanced after her daughter, who had vanished from sight. "Sounds like what you're asking is if she's like the heroine in that old fairy tale 'The Princess and the Pea'."

"Well, not exactly," said Myeko and laughed. "I think I kind of meant, more sensitive, more of a refined little thing. Tobias is a boy and boys roughhouse as a matter of course, but Susanna seems more like your typical all-American kid, which she isn't."

"It's the environment she's been raised in," said Leslie with a shrug. "Plus, I think she's more extroverted than Karina is. I guess we won't know till we get them over there next fall and see how they adjust. I just hope they'll be all right. We scheduled a family portrait for next week—Christian and me, and all the kids, with Father. It'll be a kind of keepsake to help the triplets remember him, and for Anastasia to refer to when she's older."

"That's a great idea," said Myeko. She seemed to notice something and grinned with some resignation. "Here comes Dawn. I'm surprised she lasted this long. Probably sheer refusal to admit defeat." She and Leslie laughed; Dawn had always hated bedtime.

Just as Dawn came to lean against Myeko, Karina returned, offered the older girl a shy smile, and climbed into Leslie's lap again. "Daddy said okay, 'cause he's tired too."

"I'm not tired," boasted Dawn, now eight and a third-grader. "I'm gonna stay up all night. You get to when it's New Year's Eve."

"No you don't," Myeko contradicted her calmly. "Not even the grownups get to do that, unless they really want to—and no, we don't." She had seen Dawn's expression light up at the thought that her parents might be all-night partiers. "We're too old now."

"I'll never be too old," Dawn said confidently. "When I'm older, I'm gonna stay up all night long, every single night, if I want to. And nobody's gonna stop me."

"Except Mother Nature," commented Leslie, at which Myeko laughed. Her grin was washed away by a yawn. "At this rate, midnight can't get here soon enough."

Myeko peered farther down the dais. "Mr. Roarke's been getting a string of people coming up to him all night long, I've noticed."

"People taking the chance to wish him farewell and say whatever they want to say," said Leslie. "I think right now it's mostly the resort employees and other islanders who don't get to see him very often otherwise. I'm sure he's had a long night too."

Myeko nodded solemnly. "Especially since he's so weak now." For most of December, Roarke had spent the majority of his time seated, either at his desk or in a wheelchair. Leslie had been devoting the better part of her work time to chauffeuring him around and helping him get from one seat to another; if Christian was there he would help. When she had asked Roarke how he meant to get upstairs to his bedroom every night, he had eyed her in silence till she realized exactly how silly that really was, and she still had to smile at herself whenever she remembered that conversation. Roarke still kept his teleporting and telekinetic abilities something of an open secret, refusing to use them in front of his employees, which necessitated Leslie's driving him around.

The crucial hour was approaching, Leslie realized, for her friends' husbands and the older children were beginning to gravitate toward them now. She nudged Karina to her feet, gathered up the baby carrier with Anastasia, and sought out Christian, who after a moment waved to her from beside Roarke. She joined him with the two girls; Tobias had appeared from somewhere and was now perched on Roarke's lap, but Susanna was still absent. "You might have to teleport her here," Leslie kidded low to her father.

Roarke chuckled. "She'll appear soon," he promised. "I must admit, I look forward to returning home for the night. Tomorrow will be very busy." Leslie nodded, understanding what he meant; when word got out that Roarke was "retiring", a great many former guests who'd had their fantasies granted, and their lives enriched, by Roarke, from as far back as during Leslie's first weeks on the island as a young teen, had decided to make a special trip to the island to give him a last thanks for what he had done for them. Both she and Christian would be there with him, along with the children, since Christian's business was closed for the holiday. Leslie had been fielding letters and keeping a list since early November; by now there were a few dozen names on it, and she looked forward to the day.

"The countdown's beginning," Christian noted, and they paused, listening, joining in at the thirty-second mark. At twenty-four seconds, Susanna emerged finally and hovered beside them; she and Karina and Tobias began counting down at the ten-second mark, and their shouts of "Happy New Year!" roused Anastasia, who began to cry.

"Can we go home and go to bed now?" pleaded Karina in a whine.

Christian and Leslie looked at each other and grinned ruefully. "We may as well," said Christian. "There may be those here who have the stamina to keep celebrating till dawn breaks, but I'm not one of them. Can we help you at all, Mr. Roarke?"

Roarke smiled and beckoned at them, murmured to Leslie who grinned and nodded, and gently nudged Tobias off his lap while Leslie and Christian stood in such a way as to block off anyone else's view of Roarke. Then, with Christian holding onto Susanna and Tobias to keep them from grabbing at their grandfather again, Roarke gave them a last smile and a goodnight, and vanished—wheelchair and all.

"Cool!" blurted Tobias, huge-eyed. "I want Grandfather to teach me how to do that!"

"No way," Leslie shot back, eliciting a laugh from her husband. "We have a long day tomorrow; it's time to go home now."


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § - January 1, 2010

By late afternoon Christian and Leslie were both ready to go back to bed for the night despite the early hour; they had been awake an extra ninety minutes after returning home the previous night, thanks to Anastasia's inconsolability and her insistence on a night feeding before she would finally go back to sleep. Karina had gone to bed without fuss, but Tobias and Susanna had been wound up from the party and taken some time to settle down, even after Christian read them three stories and adamantly refused a fourth. The children had all been energetic through the day today; Leslie wondered whether they sensed that this was their last two weeks before their grandfather would leave them.

Roarke, in contrast to his daughter and son-in-law, seemed energized, much like his grandchildren; almost without cease, he had received a string of guests from the last forty years, greeting them like old friends, congratulating them on various life milestones, thanking them for coming. Leslie had enjoyed reconnecting with those she recognized, and there had been many—Rodney Stone and Jenny Knight Stone, who had originally met in the summer of 1979 when both their families had had fantasies on the same weekend, along with Rodney's sister Joanna, had been among the first. Jenny's daughter Dania Branham, by her long-imprisoned first husband Ray, was to be married that evening to Jonathan Ichino; the two had fallen in love sometime back, but Dania had wanted to establish her career in marine biology before committing herself, and Jonathan had finally talked her into marriage when they'd learned Roarke would have to retire soon.

The guest list had seemed endless: Lisa Blake Roman, whose mother Elizabeth had come to the island in early 1981 late in the pregnancy that would kill her, asking to see what her future child would be like, along with her husband and three children; Philip and Amanda Breem, who had battled Mephistopheles with Roarke's help in the fall of 1979 and escaped thanks to Mrs. Breem's brand-new pregnancy, with two sons and five grandchildren; Danny and Christy Collier, who had been married "by accident" in early 1980 and brought five kids and two young grandchildren with them; Scott Enderling, who had once thought he might be Leslie's half-brother, and his wife Mandy, with two children a few years older than the triplets; Edmond and Susan Dumont, who had managed to find time to raise a now-grown son with his own music career, and were talking none too seriously of retirement; Annie Johnston Heidema, who had had a fantasy in 1998 to be something beyond her mousy, seemingly untalented self, with her husband Randall and two children; Kieran O'Keefe, the rakish actor, and his author wife Melanie Downs, who had a little girl the same age as the triplets; and even Andy and Caroline Shaw Holloway, from Texas, whose 1999 Snow White-distorting fantasy Leslie remembered having so enjoyed, along with their four kids. These had been only the standouts in Leslie's mind; so many others passed through that either she didn't remember or had been there before her arrival on the island, that after a while she stopped trying to place them and simply greeted them.

Eventually Christian got tired of the never-ending parade, made a quiet excuse and took the children off to the pool, including Anastasia. "She can paddle her feet in the water and watch the triplets playing in the wading pool, and get just a little sun," he told Leslie with a smile. She grinned back, knowing why he really wanted to get away, and watched him go, feeling slightly envious.

It was then that Kyle Satterfield, now twenty-five, came in the door with his wife by the hand, making Leslie sit up straight. "I remember you!" she burst out as soon as Kyle introduced himself. "The kid whose father got abducted by a UFO!"

"And you and Mr. Roarke got him back for us, yeah," Kyle said with a self-conscious grin. "You probably remember Rhian. We met here at that time and struck up a friendship because she and her brother were both interested in extraterrestrial encounters."

Roarke and Leslie both nodded. "How are your parents doing, Kyle?" Roarke asked.

"Great," said Kyle with enthusiasm. "Still together and happy as can be. Zachary's in his last year of college—graduates this June. Rhian and I got married on Halloween, and we're still in the honeymoon stage." He reddened, while Rhian giggled and squeezed his arm. "After we heard you have to retire, Mr. Roarke, I thought I'd come back and say thanks one more time. I mean, after all, I understood you kind of had to sacrifice someone to get my dad back, and that just makes me doubly grateful for what you did."

Roarke smiled. "I suspect I'll see that someone again eventually," he said in a soft, reflective tone that made Kyle and Rhian look at each other. "I thank you both for taking the time and trouble to come here, and I wish you much luck and happiness. Congratulations and a long and happy marriage to you."

Kyle and Rhian thanked him and departed, and following on their heels were none other than Frida Liljefors Rosseby, her husband Klaus, and three daughters: ten-year-old Menia, seven-year-old Sunniva, and five-year-old Jonna. The two women hugged each other, and Frida studied Leslie with interest while Klaus spoke with Roarke. "The news says that you and Prince Christian and your children are moving to Lilla Jordsö later in the year," she said with a quizzical note to her voice.

Leslie had to smile at that; after Christian had e-mailed the rest of the royal family with news of their decision, it had rapidly spread not only all over Lilla Jordsö but across Scandinavia. "Not till August, but we're planning on it, yes," she said. "Why?"

Frida smiled back and dropped a bombshell on Leslie: "We also are moving there, in the late spring! My parents grew homesick and returned to live in Furuskog—that's the village closest to Liljefors Slott, and the northernmost suburb of Sundborg. That was at the time Jonna was born. But I miss my mother and father, and after all, even if I don't remember it, I was born in Lilla Jordsö. So we have been looking for a house there, and I'll move my clothing business to that country and provide jobs. And you and I can see each other as often as time will let us do it."

Leslie's hand shot to her mouth and she gasped, then lit up. "That's fantastic! You'll be my first friend in Lilla Jordsö! Oh, this'll make the move so much easier—I can't believe it! If you find a house close enough to the capital, maybe your Jonna can go to school with our triplets, and Karina and Susanna can have their first friend in Lilla Jordsö too."

"Then I'll ask my parents where we should look for a house so that this can happen," Frida promised. "When that news came out, I thought I should tell Klaus right away, so we could make a decision about where to look for a house. It's terrible, I don't know my own birth country...it's only that I lived in Sweden all my life. But now we both have something to look forward to after this move." Smiling at Leslie's vigorous nod, she cleared her throat. "I hope we can have a chance to talk to the others as well. E-mail is nice, but I haven't seen everyone in such a long time, and I missed the school gathering last summer."

"I'll give the other girls a call when I have a chance," Leslie said, and they hugged each other. "I'm so glad you came in and told me that. I'm glad you're here, for that matter."

"I had something I wanted to tell Mr. Roarke, before it was too late," Frida said, and she turned to Roarke then, waiting for a lull in his conversation with Klaus. "Mr. Roarke...I wished only to thank you for giving me the rest of my life. When my adoptive parents died, I thought I had nowhere else in the world to go, and my rush here to Fantasy Island was a desperate act, to try to get as far from the Swedish authorities as possible. With my Liljefors powers, I didn't know what they would do with me. I had only the experience with my adoptive parents to judge by. And I knew that strange things happened all the time on this island, so I thought it was my only chance to make a life in peace. Then Leslie found me, and both of you helped me, and I had more than just a peaceful life at last. You allowed me to stay on your island, and that opened a whole future for me. So I want to thank you from my heart, for doing that for me."

Roarke smiled broadly, with a glint of pure appreciation in his dark eyes. "I am very glad I could help you out, if only in such a small way. Your English is greatly improved."

"It was necessary," Frida admitted with a laugh. "My clothing-design business is known all over Europe, and I deal with people from other parts of the continent all the time, so I had to learn better English so that I could succeed. I just told Leslie that Klaus and I and the girls will be moving to Lilla Jordsö, so when Leslie returns there with Prince Christian, she and I can see each other much more often. Neither of us will be so lonely then."

"And Frida can get to know her family," Klaus added with a smile. "I think we may remain permanently. I recently accepted a position as botanical professor at Premier University in Dalslund, so we may settle there..."

"But if Leslie is living in the castle with the royal family," protested Frida, "it would be nice to live closer to her. She also said perhaps Jonna can be friends with Princesses Karina and Susanna, and that will be more difficult if they attend different schools."

Klaus grinned. "Well, I understand Dalslund isn't so far from Sundborg really, so it might not be as hard as you think. We can talk about it more when your parents are able to send us a good map of the country that we can work with. For now, let's all just be happy that the moves will be easier for you and Princess Leslie." They all laughed.

Leslie kept this tucked away in the back of her mind for the rest of the day as Roarke continued receiving former guests; eventually, Julie's sister Delphine, her husband Greg, and their daughter and three sons came in and had a good talk with Roarke, adding that they were staying at the B&B so that Rory could get to know his cousins, and she and Greg could get better acquainted with Rogan. "Julie said something about Rory eventually inheriting the whole fantasy-granting enterprise," Delphine remarked at one point, "but we know that's years off yet. Rogan keeps talking about how he wishes he didn't have to do this, how he'd rather shut himself in that greenhouse of his all day long and never come out...and then it came out that he's seriously considering having Rory set up all the magical aspects of the fantasy-granting and just doing the paperwork and pretending he's the one creating the whole thing. If you ask me, that's just plain nuts. Rory's only ten years old. Greg's made enough money to retire early if he wants to, and we're talking about moving here with the kids. After all, I'm an island native, so there's no reason I can't come back, right?"

Roarke settled back in his chair, and Leslie saw a deeply relieved look flash across his features for just the merest hint of a second before he grinned at the older of his two goddaughters. "Have you broken the news to Rogan?" he asked.

"I figured it was better to come to you first," Delphine said. "This way he won't run your resort into the ground, and you can turn your attention to keeping that unruly tribunal in line and not have to spend half your time wondering whether Rogan's up to no good. Plus, my kids—all four of them—have the MacNabb powers, and I figured I could give my poor exhausted little sister some tips on dealing with Rory, especially after all the shenanigans I've heard he's committed through the years. It'd be good for everybody."

"What part of the island would you live in?" Leslie asked.

"Probably the Enclave," Delphine said. "Julie took over our childhood home for the B&B, and that makes sense, so we're going to be here for a couple of weeks looking around at properties around the island. Uncle said there are a couple in the Enclave that've been sitting around for a good while, waiting for a buyer."

"At least two that I know of," Leslie said, nodding. "We'll be here supervising Rogan this weekend and handling some paperwork, so if you and Greg want to come back sometime tomorrow, I can find the information on those two places for you and you two can look it over and decide if you want to take a look through the houses."

"Great," Delphine agreed with a grin. "In that case, we'll drop in sometime tomorrow afternoon. We're going to stay till the end, uncle, so we can be with Leslie and Julie and everybody else when it's time for the final goodbyes." She swallowed and brushed at one eye. "It won't be the same without you, you know."

"So Leslie has been telling me for some time," Roarke said, chuckling. "Unfortunately, my time has finally come—but knowing that you and Greg are willing to move here, and to assist Rogan in what has been a very reluctant undertaking for him, eases my mind greatly. Leslie and Christian and their children will return for annual summer sojourns here, so she will have a hand in the resort operations as well, to whatever extent possible." He glanced between Delphine and Leslie with satisfaction. "Yes, I have far less concern now, knowing that I am leaving Fantasy Island in such capable and familiar hands."

"Well, if we could ease your departure, uncle, that's great," Delphine said. "I wish there were something that would ease it for _us_ now." She noticed Leslie's wistful nod and smiled. "Julie and I are no happier about it than you are, Leslie, but at least you know you can move through this gradually, before you move away with Prince Christian. It's just that you've gotta hang in there, make the best of it, and try not to live in the past."

"Wise advice, Delphine," Roarke said and eyed Leslie pointedly. "I suggest you take it, Leslie Susan. I fully understand the origins of your aversion to such major changes, but life is filled with them, and everyone must learn to readjust—everyone, including you. As Christian has repeatedly told you, you are not alone; and he will be there for you throughout. I'm not saying this to minimize the pain of separation; I simply want you to understand that you can't take up residence in your grief. Remember what nearly happened to you and Christian last year, and take your lesson from it."

Leslie sighed and said tolerantly, "I'll be all right, Father. We have seven months after you go, for me to get used to things here without you. But I told Christian that this island will be packed solid with reminders of you, and secondarily of Tattoo, everywhere I turn, and that might actually make it harder for me to live here, knowing you'll never be back. So in a way I'm looking forward to moving. But at the same time, I'm glad we'll be back in the summers, to make new memories and do a little reminiscing, so the triplets' memories of you can be kept alive as much as possible."

"I see," Roarke said and smiled at her. "Very good, Leslie. Perhaps I'll worry a bit less about you once I've made my own transition." He studied his daughter and his goddaughter, then grinned conspiratorially and said, "Don't spread this around, but I myself am still none too happy about this, solely because it was forced upon me. I have it on good authority that I will be the superior member of the tribunal—and that will allow me leeway to subtly expend my frustration and anger with them directly _onto_ them." He winked; Delphine and Leslie stared at him in astonishment, then both exploded with gales of laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § - January 1, 2010

By the end of the day everyone had finished trooping through, and their last visitors had been the biggest surprise: Jamie Marsh, Leslie's stepbrother, and his wife Pavithra, who had made the long journey from India to say their goodbyes. They now had a son and a daughter, both of whom were planning to follow in their parents' footsteps and were already attending the schools in England that Jamie had gone to. "Do they know about your parents, Jamie?" Roarke asked gently over the evening meal, which was being held in the dining room to accommodate him, Jamie, Pavithra and the entire Enstad family.

"It's gotten easier to talk about Mom as the years pass," Jamie said with a nod. "It was always easier for me to talk about Dad, since I was so young when he died; but Mom's loss hit me harder, I think." He glanced at Leslie and Christian, and added, "I guess you'd both know what I mean. You know, Your Highness, I think Leslie really needed someone like you who could understand her feeling about losing her parents. Especially now, when Mr. Roarke's being forced on to something else—it might not be like losing him exactly, but if he has to...I mean, if he can't really come back, at least in this form, then it's close."

Christian nodded, liking the younger man already. "Granted, I was older when I lost my parents than Leslie was when hers died, but that makes it no less painful. I think for us, though, we were much more affected by the loss of our mothers, just as you were."

"How long can you stay, Jamie?" Roarke asked.

"We managed to put some people in charge that we trust completely, so that we could be here till it's time for you to go. That way we can reminisce," Jamie explained.

"And perhaps fill in the full story of your marriage to Jamie's mother, Mr. Roarke?" said Christian. "I know from talking with Leslie on a number of occasions that it was a traumatic time in her life, and I think the triplets would be interested in hearing it, even if only because it's part of their mother's past, and such stories fascinate them."

Jamie and Leslie looked at each other, then at the triplets, and Leslie warned her children gently, "It's a very sad story, you know. It might make us cry."

"Then we can hug you and Grandfather," said Karina. "And that'll make you feel better. Hugs always make me feel better."

"So simple, at such a young age," they heard Roarke murmur, and glanced at one another, but smiled.

"Are you up for it, Father?" Leslie asked.

Roarke looked up, as if surprised to find himself in the midst of a crowd, and nodded, smiling. "Even under the circumstances, we had very happy moments," he said. "We can talk about those memories after the meal. For now, tell me how the hospital school is doing."

There was, indeed, a long, meandering discussion between Roarke, Leslie and Jamie about the few days when they and Helena had been a little family; it left Roarke drained and Leslie and Jamie exhausted, and the stepsiblings hugged each other before their families parted ways for the night. Even the triplets were subdued, sensing their mother's mood, and went to bed without fuss when the time came.

"Are you all right, my Rose?" Christian asked.

She faced him across their bed, just about to climb in, and nodded after a moment. "I will be. The last day'll be the hardest, though."

Christian nodded. "I know. But you won't be the only one." He gestured at her pillow, and they both got into bed and doused the lights. "So how long did the parade of former guests continue?"

"Just about all the way up till suppertime," Leslie said with a chuckle. "I think even though Father was amazed and glad to see them all, it was still a long and exhausting day for him. He's probably sound asleep right this minute, and I can't say I blame him." Suddenly she remembered Frida's arrival and announcement, and grabbed his arm with excitement. "Oh, my love, wait till you hear this." She told him about Frida and Klaus bringing their daughters to the main house and about their forthcoming move.

"Fate save us!" Christian said, amazed. A grin broke out across his face and he reached up to smooth her hair. "That's a piece of phenomenal good luck. Now this way, you won't feel so alone after we move; you'll already have a friend there waiting for you. And you know you'll make more friends as we settle in." His gaze grew reflective. "Perhaps I will as well. It would be very unusual, Pelle Fågelsang and Ernst Wennergren notwithstanding. It depends on what I decide to get myself involved in, other than my business."

"Then we'll both be trying to branch out and get involved, I guess," Leslie mused. "It's going to be very interesting for us all."

"I have no doubt of that," Christian agreed with a grin. "Well, we'd better get some sleep. I need to go into my office in the morning and contact my other branches, and see when I can get the year-end figures from my accountants."

§ § § - January 13, 2010

It was Roarke's final full day on the island; even he didn't know what time the next day the tribunal would insist he join them, and he had been speaking with people for the last several days. Rogan had been delighted and deeply relieved when Delphine volunteered to be his assistant and the handler of all things magical; as she put it, "I can be to you what I was to the late Great Zachariah, way back when. Just don't run around trying to take all the credit, like he did. I'm not putting up with that anymore." That had met with laughter, and Rogan had readily agreed; in the meantime, the Randolphs had decided to move as soon as their house in Las Vegas had been sold.

Cindy Grainger, the last orphan Roarke had raised before Leslie, came around with her husband and family as well, spending a good two hours with Roarke and having lunch with him and the Enstads, before wishing him the best in whatever he was off to do and departing with tears in her eyes. A couple of Roarke's former assistants, who had been with him while Leslie was married to Teppo, appeared from the woodwork to wish him a farewell; and none other than Lawrence—now an elderly man who got around on a cane, but had lost little, if any, of that upper-crust British manner of his—appeared thanks to a generous gesture from his last employers and was able to stay for a few days before returning to England. Christian had to laugh later when he remembered how Lawrence had insisted, despite his difficulty in walking and the stiffness of his joints, on bowing to Leslie in deference to her title as princess.

Roarke had spoken a final time with the administrative committee, leaving behind explicit instructions on what they should and should not do, and adding that Leslie would be keeping tabs on them through Myeko, who would be taking minutes of each meeting with the little tape recorder she used for her newspaper interviews. Grady had promised to keep them in line, wisecracking that he'd jail anyone who overstepped the boundaries, and Myeko had played along, calling herself "the keeper of the evidence". But they'd all assured Roarke and Leslie that they would do their very best to keep things running properly and with as few hitches as possible.

There had been a number of talks centering around what would happen to the main house; Rogan, after a little conferring with Delphine, Julie, Leslie and Roarke, had ventured that maybe he should set up his office elsewhere and put the house up for sale. Leslie and both MacNabb sisters had objected so vociferously to this that Roarke hadn't needed to say a word; Rogan, thoroughly shouted down, admitted defeat, then demanded alternate ideas. After some thought, Delphine and Greg conferred for a few minutes, then suggested that they move into the main house along with their daughter and youngest son; their two older boys were in college and lived on campus, and could share an apartment during summer if they were so inclined. "We can just put the bulk of our stuff in storage," Delphine decided, "and as the kids move out on their own, they can choose from that to make their own homes. That way the furniture that's already here stays where it belongs."

It was clear, with this settled, that another major worry had been taken off Roarke's mind, so that when he had sat for the promised family portrait with Christian, Leslie, and the children, his smile had been warm and genuine. On this last day, the photographer had delivered the pictures: four 5"×7" copies—one for each of the children—and an 8"×10" for Christian and Leslie. Roarke had been seated in an elegant chair, as the focus of the portrait, with Anastasia on his lap, Karina and Susanna standing one on each side of him, Tobias behind him kneeling on a stool, and Christian and Leslie sitting on stools one on each side of Tobias and behind Susanna and Karina. At sight of Christian and Leslie's copy, Roarke had gazed at it for a long time; then he'd looked up and said softly, "If there were one thing I could take with me when it's time for me to leave you, this would be that item." Leslie still felt her eyes burn with threatening tears whenever she remembered those words.

Mariki had agreed to stay on as cook at the main house once the Randolphs took up residence; but till then, and once Roarke had left, she would be assisting in the hotel or the restaurant as needed, as both cook and housekeeper. She had given Leslie an admonishment to the effect that "you'd better eat or else", and Leslie had finally told her that enough was enough and she no longer wanted to hear another word, after all these years. "If you have to tell someone to eat till their stomach blows up, then tell Delphine," she had said, and Mariki had rolled her eyes and laughed for perhaps the first time at Leslie's words, hugging her and then Roarke; then she'd gone off pretending she wasn't on the verge of tears. Leslie had watched her go, feeling the most peculiar nostalgic longing.

Solange Latignon and her three children had arrived the day before: Patrick, twenty-five, bringing a pretty French girl he had recently been engaged to; Antoinette, twenty-three, on holiday break from the dance company of which she had been part for several years now; and Mireille, nearly eighteen and happy to be in her final year of compulsory school. Tattoo's children insisted that Christian and Leslie find time to visit them someday once they had moved back to Europe, and Solange had a quiet chat with Roarke, culminating in her thanks for giving Tattoo the fantasy that had allowed them to meet and fall in love.

It was early evening now and people were gathering for the last wedding Roarke would ever perform. Jenny Stone had gone up to Leslie's old room to help Dania dress for the event; Joanna Stone Faraday, Rodney—her brother and Jenny's husband—and Leslie were reminiscing for Christian about the weekend they had all been on the island for their parents' fantasies. Jonathan's entire family was filling the room while they talked and Roarke directed the final decoration and setup of the terrace for the ceremony; and when Brian brought in Lauren and Kevin, he found himself staring in amazement at the extended family of the groom. "Are all these people gonna fit in here?" he asked.

Christian grinned. "I think this must be twice as many as there were when I married Leslie," he remarked.

"You're probably right," Brian said, blowing out his breath. He caught sight of his brother-in-law and shook hands. "Hey, Rodney, long time no see—you're lookin' good! What'd you do with my sister?"

"She's fussing with Dania upstairs," Rodney said, grinning at him. "Good seeing you too, Brian, how're you treating that wife of yours?" Brian sat down and they got off into a conversation of their own. Kevin went off to join Tobias, who was sitting on the steps along with Karina and Susanna after having been told they needed to stay out of the way; a number of other children of various ages had joined them. Lauren wedged herself in beside Leslie, asked if she had seen Camille yet, and drew her into conversation, leaving Christian shaking his head with amusement and resigning himself to telling the kids to behave every so often.

Ichinos continued to pour in till Roarke's study was full: Paul and Katie, the parents; Andrea, their firstborn, with second husband Anton Lauterhoff, Christian's Fantasy Island branch manager, and her daughter Denise (Janine hadn't been able to come); Tommy with his wife Susan and their children; Camille with Jimmy, David, Craig and Robin; Julianne with Adam and Mallory; Jeremy with Holly and their son Kylan; and even Jennette and her husband, in from Hawaii, with two more children. Lauren's parents, brother and sister also appeared; she broke off her chat with Leslie to greet them, and Christian began to count heads as he stared at all the relatives mingling around the room. "Thirty people," he said at last, "give or take a few, and not counting the bride and groom or those of us who aren't even related to either of them. There's no question, this wedding is definitely larger than ours."

Leslie grinned. "You'd have been annoyed if ours were any bigger."

"Probably," he agreed, and they both laughed and settled in together as snugly as possible, as much to provide extra seating room as simply to be together.

Camille wiggled out of the group with Lauren, and they both plopped down on the floor, since all the seats were taken. "It's about time that brother of mine got married," Camille was saying. "Thirty years old, going on thirty-one, and he's the last one of us."

"Well, part of it's Dania's fault," Lauren pointed out. "She was too busy establishing her career. She mentioned to us that she can't wait till Haruko Miyamoto finishes college and can work with her full-time. She said there's so much crazy marine flora and fauna on this island, it's going to take both of them years to explore and record it all."

"Job security," said Leslie, and they all laughed. "Incidentally, I think every Ichino on the island is here except the groom. I don't see him anywhere."

"Typical Jonathan," Camille remarked. "He'll be here, especially if he doesn't want to make Dania mad and have her decide to give up on him."

"Where do they plan to live after the wedding?" Leslie asked.

"In that cottage Dania's set up in, the one that belonged to Mr. Roarke's old grounds-keeper who won the lottery way back when," said Lauren. "They'll be fine there for a while, at least till either Haruko graduates and joins them, or they have a baby. Then they'll have to move out and get a proper place to live, because that cottage doesn't even have a separate bedroom and they'll be really crammed in there."

Just then Jonathan, fully dressed for the wedding, stumbled in, out of breath and his hair standing out as if he'd been caught in a hurricane. "Made it," he blurted.

"Finally," Camille yelled at him. "You look like hell, Jon. Go see Mom and she'll get you fixed up." She smirked when he glared at her, and he retorted with a rude gesture that made them all break up laughing. Rolling his eyes, Jonathan plowed into the crowd to find his mother, and conversations rose around them again.

It was another fifteen minutes before Jenny came down the stairs, sidestepping the children who were sitting there and causing their parents to call them aside, and informed Roarke that Dania was ready; the guests began gathering around the terrace perimeter, and Leslie lifted the baby carrier with Anastasia to carry it out while Christian herded the triplets along in front of him. Kevin managed to maneuver his parents into positions alongside the Enstads so that he and Tobias could stand next to each other. A few minutes later Dania came down, and Rodney joined her at the foot of the steps, walking her out to the terrace, where he gave her away to her new husband as Roarke conducted the wedding ceremony. Tears stood in many eyes; Lauren and Leslie were no exceptions, despite their having to stop Tobias and Kevin from whispering and giggling with each other on several occasions.

Once Jonathan and Dania had been pronounced husband and wife, Jonathan cleared his throat and said, "Before we go anywhere, I just...I just want to thank Mr. Roarke for taking time out to do this for us. We know this is his last wedding, and his final day on the island, and that makes it a privilege for me and Dania to have been married by him."

"Right," Dania agreed, "so thanks, Mr. Roarke, for everything." She leaned down and kissed his cheek, and Jonathan shook hands while everyone applauded their speech and Leslie's tears fell again.


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § - January 13, 2010

The wedding reception was being held at the old opera house; the Enstads had been invited, but had declined, since it was Roarke's final night and they wanted to take advantage of that. It took some time before the house was quiet; Leslie told Roarke not to bother worrying about the terrace. "I'll take care of it tomorrow," she murmured. "I think I'll need something to do."

"If we can't go with you, we should get to visit you, Grandfather," Tobias remarked, repeating a refrain he had been heard to utter on a number of occasions since the triplets had been told Roarke would have to leave. "That tri-thing is a bunch of mean old guys 'cause they don't care if we ever see you again."

Roarke drew in a breath and regarded his grandchildren; then he smiled and signaled at them to cluster around his chair. "Leslie, might I have Anastasia for a time?"

"Of course, Father," she said, and settled the baby in his lap, resting Anastasia's back against one of Roarke's arms so that she could look up at him. She retreated to sit beside Christian, and they both listened in as Roarke spoke gently.

"I know you'll all miss me," he said. "I'll certainly miss all of you as well, very much indeed. But perhaps I am the fortunate one here. I have many strong and happy memories of spending time with you three, and some with your sister as well. And whenever I want to think of you, all I have to do is remember you.

"But I know you're young, and you may not remember me quite so clearly as you get older. And Anastasia won't remember at all. Now, your parents have told you that you'll return here to the island during summer vacations, right?" The triplets nodded. "When you do, there will be chances here for you to remember me—short trips into the past, so that you can see what we did—and you'll also remember yourselves as small children. Your mother will know what to do; I'll tell her.

"Just don't forget, I love all four of you very much. You have our family photo, one for each of you, and that will help. And as I told you before, if there is ever a true, real, desperate need for you to see me again, you will. Your mother will know. And remember this: I am not dying. I'm only going somewhere else." This he said to Karina in particular, whose eyes were wide and chin trembling. "It's all right to cry sometimes, _mi dulce_ , because your mother will cry sometimes as well. But I will be alive; I'll simply be somewhere else. All right?"

Karina nodded, then burst into tears, and Roarke reached out with the arm that wasn't supporting Anastasia and drew her in close. Their sister's grief put Tobias and Susanna over the edge, and they too began to cry, with a little less force. Anastasia, infected by the heavy emotion in the air, fretted and then joined in the chorus.

Roarke let them cry for a while, even shed a few of his own tears, before pulling himself together and soothing the children. Anastasia snuggled up against him and closed her eyes, as if having once been soothed, she had decided all was right with her world; it took the triplets a little longer, but Roarke assured them several times that they would see him again, as long as the reasons were compelling enough.

The evening meal was subdued, and the triplets were fretful, refusing to go to bed till none of them could keep their eyes open any longer. Even then they stubbornly stuck by their grandfather's side; under the circumstances, Christian and Leslie allowed it, and not till past eleven—when all four children had fallen sound asleep against Roarke—did they at last stir themselves to carry them upstairs and put them to bed for the night. As their parents lifted them up, Roarke smoothed his hand over each child's hair one last time; Leslie saw him close his eyes when she and Christian had taken Tobias and Susanna up and were lifting Karina and Anastasia off his lap. "When you return, I wish to speak with each of you individually," Roarke said.

Christian and Leslie nodded, glanced at each other and toted the girls upstairs, tucking them in under a silent pall. They hesitated in the hallway just at the top of the stairs; even Christian had a drawn look to him now. "I wonder exactly when that tribunal will claim him tomorrow," he said softly.

"I'd bet they'll sneak him away when we're all still asleep," Leslie murmured. "If he's saying his final goodbyes now, maybe he thinks so too."

Christian nodded once or twice, then took her hand and brought her down. Roarke watched them as they took seats beside each other, across from him, and for a few minutes the three of them gazed at one another across the tea table, as if trying to put off that last heartbreaking moment.

At last Roarke drew in a long breath. "Christian, I realize words are terribly inadequate, but sometimes they are all one has. I have too little time left to me now for anything else, so I hope you'll accept this as my final farewell."

Christian nodded. "Of course, Mr. Roarke, anything..."

Roarke smiled faintly and said, "Thank you. In some ways it's more difficult to say these things to you and Leslie than to the triplets. But then again, you'll understand far better than they, at their tender age." He cleared his throat. "You've brought a great deal of light into more lives than you can possibly imagine—not just Leslie's, you know. There were times when I thought she would become too insular here, would never find it in herself to take another chance at love and life. Whatever you did to coax her out of the shell she had drawn over herself, it was exactly right. She's grown and blossomed in her marriage to you, and I think she has come a very long way.

"You've given her children...and me grandchildren, something I must admit I never expected to have. There was never a conscious choice on my part as to whether to have a family; it was simply the vagaries and circumstances of a life that was too often nomadic. Leslie is my adopted daughter, but the child of my heart in the end, for I chose to make her my heir and my child. And though I do have Jamie as my stepson, I have had too little contact with him to truly develop a bond. So I say this truthfully when I tell you, Christian, you are the closest thing to a son I have ever had. And I consider it a great privilege."

Christian's swallow was so thick that it drew Leslie's attention, and she could see tears standing in his eyes. "Mr. Roarke," he said, choosing his words and speaking with an effort, "I know there are times in the past when we disagreed on things, other times when it must have seemed to Leslie that we were...banding together against her, when we had only her best interests in mind...other times when we both wanted what was best for her but approached it from different angles. And sometimes we simply haven't been able to meet halfway on a few things at all. Yet...yet I've always been made to feel welcome and at home here. Not once have I felt like an outsider, as if I didn't belong. It...it goes beyond your always having been the consummate host. You made me feel like a member of your family, and to be included in that fashion...you may not realize just what that's done for me.

"I just want you to know that...perhaps I..." Christian's voice caught, and he closed his eyes and swallowed again before he could go on. "I would have obviously wished that my own father had given me the unreserved love any father should give his child...but in the absence of this, you stepped in and helped me to learn things...things about Leslie and even about myself that I could never have hoped to know otherwise. Fate take me, how trite I sound." He glanced up apologetically.

"Not at all, Christian, not at all," Roarke assured him, smiling.

"Then, please...just know that you...well, with my grandfather taken from me far too soon, and my father too often refusing to play his rightful role in my life...you've been a father figure to me. Perhaps...perhaps it was necessary for me to see how you guided Leslie in that role, before I could finally fall in love—even though I was so strongly drawn to her from the moment I first saw her—for I still didn't know some crucial things I needed to know. There are some things I think a son can learn only from his father. Things that you taught me." Once again he had to stop and gather himself. "It took this impending separation to drag these words from me...such simple words, really, yet so difficult to say. I just wish there were a better way. I...I thank you, Mr. Roarke, for encouraging Leslie and me in the beginning, all those years back...for letting us learn to know each other, for encouraging her to explore what she had begun to feel for me, for never making me feel as if I...I were somehow overstepping a boundary in falling in love with her. Thank you for giving me this happiest part of my life—for trusting me with the love and care of your daughter."

Roarke stared at him, looking amazed, for one of the extreme few times Leslie could ever remember his ever being caught off guard in any way. At last he said, very softly, "I'll cherish those words, Christian, always." Christian nodded in that rapid bobbing manner more properly called a shudder, then let his head fall forward and covered his face with his hands for a few minutes. Leslie hugged him from one side, her stomach churning, for she knew she was next—and last.

Roarke waited, watching them, till Christian pulled himself back under control, looked up and managed a reassuring smile for Leslie before slipping an arm around her. Then he regarded his daughter, whose eyes were frightened; he knew why, and he mirrored Christian's smile before speaking.

"As I said to Christian, Leslie, you are the child of my heart. I raised three or four other orphans, including Cindy, across the years, but of them all, you were the only one I chose to call my child. Perhaps it was because you were younger than the others when you came to me; perhaps it was your great vulnerability, your utter aloneness in the world, your need for security and unconditional parental love. Something in you touched me in a way I had not known before, and not once have I regretted adopting you.

"To have you as my child has been a great joy to me: watching you grow and learn, absorb new lessons—perhaps more than once in some instances—" Here he winked teasingly at her, and got a broken little giggle in reply. "—watching you grow into a beautiful young woman, deal with the painful moments in your life that gave you new experience to draw on when you most needed it; watching you gain peace in coming to terms with the greatest traumas of your young life. And then watching you discover true love with Christian, seeing the two of you finding each other and learning to cherish each other, using your enforced separation to learn more and more about each other until you both knew there would never be another for either of you. Oh, my child, you can't imagine the immense joy I took in seeing you and Christian exchanging marriage vows...you both had such light in your eyes, you were both so radiant and filled with life and love. It was then that I knew I could relax, for I had finally completed the task your mother entrusted me with so long ago.

"And then watching you take such joy and pride in becoming a mother...and seeing you and Christian dote on your children as you do, yet always making certain that you guide them with the same loving hands your mothers did while they could. The two of you, in becoming parents, gave me an unexpected extra facet in life that I had never even dreamed of, in all the many years before it happened. You've brought life and laughter and love into this house, Leslie Susan Hamilton Enstad, and I thank you for it, all of it."

Christian was stroking Leslie's hair because she was already sobbing, if mostly in silence, her hand over her mouth and tears streaming down her cheeks. Now he leaned to her and murmured, his own voice still thick with emotion, "It's all right, my Rose—but I know you have things to tell him, so gather yourself enough to be understood, all right? I'm here, I promise."

She threw her arms around him in a swift hug of gratitude for his emotional support, then forced back the worst of her grief and tried to clear some of the tears away so she could focus on Roarke. "After all that, what I say will just sound silly...but you...you gave me everything, so much more than you had to. You gave me a home, you gave me the chance to have real friends for the first time in my life, you gave me a place in your business and a room of my own and the freedom to make mistakes and learn from them..." A stray sob caught her unawares and she gasped and choked it back, feeling Christian's light strokes on her back becoming slow rubbing motions. "You let me fall in love at a young age, even though I think you knew it wasn't quite right. You let me go even when it must have hurt, even though I was in for more heartache. You gave me the time I needed to heal from losing Teppo. And then, when I met Christian, you showed me that sometimes love's just that much better the second time around. You always let me articulate my fears and my worries and my misconceptions, and even my anger...and you always dealt with it in a kind and loving way. And...and the more you did that, the more comfortable I felt, the freer I felt to express myself when I was scared or upset, because you always encouraged me.

"You really did give me everything—in providing all you gave me after I was orphaned and came here, you gave me my whole life. My whole _life._ And you...you gave me the gift of...of having a father, when I never had one till...till..." She squeezed her eyes closed and tipped forward, nearly breaking down; Christian caught her and gave her a hug, and she managed to struggle back towards a semblance of calm. Half blinded by the persistent tears, she dragged in a last breath and blurted, "Thank you for being my father."

"And thank you for stepping in where my father never did," Christian added softly. "You've earned the title, Mr. Roarke, many times over."

"Thank you both," Roarke said, his voice rough. "For being my children—for being my family. So you are and so you'll remain, always."

Christian and Leslie pushed themselves to their feet and stumbled around the tea table, falling onto the other couch one on either side of Roarke, and the three of them held onto each other, all of them in varying depths of sorrow and gratitude, taking these last moments to be together.

It took them more than an hour; eventually the grandfather clock, chiming in its elegant, unobtrusive manner, informed them that it was approaching 1 AM on the fourteenth of January, and they stared at its face for a long minute before Roarke turned to his daughter. "I've left written instructions...a will, for lack of a better term...for dissemination of certain of my property. Some of these items are rather large in nature, some quite valuable, so it's well that you will be here for several months yet; you'll need time to arrange for the moving or the care of these things. You'll find the papers in the top drawer of the desk, Leslie. They contain all the information you will need, and I assure you, Rogan and Delphine and Julie will abide by these instructions. Once I am gone, everything is yours, and you are the sole and final authority." He smoothed back Leslie's hair and read the trepidation in her eyes. "Don't worry, child—remember, you have help. Confer with Christian if you're truly unsure about something that rests ultimately in your hands, but don't be afraid to make the decisions you must make."

Leslie nodded, then remembered something so arbitrary that she wondered what pothole in her memory had disgorged it. "The first time I saw you battle Mephistopheles...I remember your telling Tattoo that you had left him instructions on how to run the island..."

Roarke grinned at her and told her, "You may find this surprising, but yes, they are still there, and just as valid as when I wrote them out. They'll be with the ones I wrote for you last evening. Everything is contained in a folder, so you'll find it easily." He softened and tucked her hair behind one ear. "I know it will hurt—but you are not the only one, child, don't forget. You aren't alone in your grief, nor must you suffer it alone. You may rest assured that I'll think of you every day, and I am told I will have the power to know where you are and how you're doing, whenever I choose to access it. As I reminded my grandchildren, I am not dead. I will simply be elsewhere. So don't grieve, please." He turned to take in Christian, who had been watching, and smiled. "You two will have your stumbling blocks in the future; all marriages go through rough patches. The key is in how you deal with them. You can let them grow out of all proportion to their size, or you can talk them out and overcome them. Always remember, you two and your immense love for each other are far bigger than any obstacle you may face." He squeezed Christian's shoulder and cradled Leslie's cheek for a moment. "Now you two, go to bed. We all need our rest."

"What if you're gone when we wake up?" Leslie protested.

Roarke smiled, loosed one small amused huff, and shook his head once or twice. "My child, we've taken care and time to say all the things we needed to tell each other. All, that is, but this—and I trust you won't forget it. I love you, my daughter, the child of my heart. I love you both as though you had been born to me." He nodded to Christian, who had to look away when a sheen filmed his eyes. "Be happy, for it's my last request of you." So saying, he leaned forward, kissed Leslie's cheek, then winked at her and at Christian—and was gone in no more than a silent twinkling.

"Father?" Leslie cried out.

From upstairs they heard him say, "Where did you think I went?"

Christian snorted and started to laugh. "My Rose, he may yet have the final jest on us. Come on—he didn't give us a chance to say those three crucial words back, so let's get up there and do it before it's too late."

They shut down the study and retreated upstairs, looked in on Roarke and delivered their return sentiments. "I love you, Father," Leslie told him, and went to hug him as Christian lingered in the doorway, uncharacteristically shy for once.

"My love?" Leslie prompted.

Christian smiled then, looking extremely sheepish. "Forgive me, Mr. Roarke, for circling the shark bait like this, but...as the father of the person I love more than anyone else on earth, as the man who accepted me as family without thinking twice...I love you as well, and I'm grateful." He advanced into the room and hugged Leslie close, adding, "Thank you for the gift of your daughter."

"It's Leslie you should thank, not me," Roarke said with another smile, "but I understand the sentiment behind your statement, so I thank you for it." He paused; then he and Leslie seemed to have the same reaction at the same moment, and both turned to Christian. "What does that mean?" Roarke questioned.

" 'Circling the shark bait'?" Leslie quoted Christian, brows as high as they would go.

Christian's grin was very wide. "A translation of a _jordisk_ phrase that equals 'beating around the bush' in English. There—you see, Mr. Roarke, even now, even you can still learn something new." They all began to laugh at that, and wished one another good night, at last parting on a brighter note.

§ § § - January 14, 2010

Leslie awoke to daylight in the room, and at first her brain was blank, in that moment of innocent clarity just after one awakens but before memory kicks in fully. When it did, she lifted her head, a bolt of disquiet making her stomach do somersaults, and stared at the clock on the bedside table in her old room. The time showed as being 9:05, shocking her. It was very rare that she, Christian or the children slept that late, unless they were suffering from jet lag. She slipped out of the bed, unwilling to disturb her husband or their youngest child in the nearby crib; they were both still sleeping, and Christian's expression seemed to indicate that he was dreaming. She let her gaze linger on him, as if for a little extra emotional support, before turning and venturing toward the door to Roarke's room. It stood slightly ajar, just as she and Christian had left it the previous night.

She took a long, deep breath, closed her eyes for five seconds, then exhaled and made herself push the door open enough to poke her head around it. The room was bright with morning sunlight; the window that never seemed to be closed brought in the relentless song of many tropical birds, and a soft breeze stirred the still air. She stepped around the door and let it drift a few inches farther open, staring at the bed, frozen.

It was empty. The sheet and the white down comforter lay gently crumpled as if someone had arisen from the bed only for a moment and meant to come back. Leslie edged toward it, reached out in slow motion and ran a hand across the space where Roarke had lain just the previous night. The sheets were barely warm; he might have been taken from them no more than fifteen minutes before. _I_ _knew_ _they'd do it that way, the sneaky bastards,_ she thought with sudden savage ferocity, and with that it all hit home. It had finally happened. She collapsed at the side of the bed and gave voice to her grief and the hole that had opened up in her heart.

No more than five minutes had passed when she sensed someone kneeling beside her, pulling her gently away enough to wrap his arms around her. "Christian, he's gone, he's gone," she wailed into his shoulder. "They stole him right out from under us..."

"I know, my Rose," he whispered, sounding choked up. "Oh, I know..." She heard him begin to cry as well, and for a long time they knelt there, grieving and comforting each other all at the same time, trying to gear up enough to face the rest of the world.


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § - January 14, 2010

The news had gotten all over the island somehow by early afternoon. The triplets had a tendency to burst out crying at the slightest provocation; Christian and Leslie were calm, but too subdued to do more than try to halfheartedly comfort their children. Anastasia grew clingy and refused to let go of Leslie; unless she was being fed, she kept her thumb in her mouth and clutched at Leslie's collar with the other hand.

Rogan had appeared about ten and instantly discovered that Roarke had vanished at some point that morning. "The black-hearted divvils," he'd growled, his Irish brogue so heavy as to render him all but unintelligible. "Just like th' dirty cowards to come round an' take him when no one could see 'em doin' it. Ye take yer time now, cousin. I'll see ta it that Julie an' her sister an' the wee ones know. We'll be back after lunch."

He kept his promise and brought back Julie and Delphine about one that afternoon, following a lunch that no one had eaten much of. By then Leslie had belatedly remembered Roarke's instructions about the paperwork he had left behind regarding final disposition of assorted minor assets, and was sitting at the desk carefully reading through it, managing in spite of Anastasia clutching her and letting out a piercing wail every time someone tried to relieve Leslie by taking over with the baby. She finally told them not to worry about it and shifted the baby from one shoulder to the other every so often.

Finally Leslie pulled in a breath and looked up, catching Christian's eye. "I think I'm ready," she said, and he sat up, the movement quieting the others.

"What's up? You okay, Leslie?" Julie asked.

"Yeah...I, uh, I think I should read this," she said. "It's not really a will so much as it is a directive from Father. We're all mentioned in this."

Christian came up beside Leslie and—with Anastasia finally asleep, having been exhausted by her own stubborn refusal to let anyone take her from her mother—lifted the sleeping baby off his wife's shoulder. "Let me take her upstairs," he said and toted her away in a comically quick half-run, as if hoping to have Anastasia bedded down in her crib before she awoke and realized she was no longer on her mother's shoulder.

The other children were playing on the terrace where their parents could see them, so Delphine and Rogan both nodded at Leslie to read Roarke's directives aloud. She skimmed through much of the administrative material and handed to Rogan the instructions for running the resort that Roarke had written out for Tattoo nearly thirty years before; then she cleared her throat and read aloud the list of items for disposition among those he had designated his heirs. "So Delphine and Greg are moving into the house," she said, "and most of the furniture stays. But it says here that Christian and I get all the furniture in my old room, and Father's also leaving us the grandfather clock." She swallowed at that, glancing at the stately old clock that had provided a low-key soundtrack to so many of her hours in this room.

She went on to designate a few further items that Rogan and Julie were to get, then frowned slightly. "Now he deals with the artworks and the books and assorted knickknacks around here," she said slowly. "Julie, the tea set that Lawrence brought from England and left here when he quit? That's going to you, he says here. You can use it at the B&B."

"Oh my," Julie murmured, amazed. "That's an awfully valuable set, too."

"Most of the sculptures and books stay with the house," Leslie said, "but he says here there's one little one..." She stopped there and lowered her head, closing her eyes and gulping rapidly several times. Christian kissed the side of her head, then gently tugged the pages from her hand and took over.

"The sculpture in question is supposed to be located on the top bookshelf in the southeastern corner of this room," he said, reading over the lines. Except for Leslie's, all eyes were drawn to that shelf; there were some ancient-looking tomes up there, accented by an odd-looking little piece that looked like a sitting teddy bear, its head too small for its body and its four paws little more than knobby suggestions of limbs. Only Christian, who recalled the story so recently told, realized what it was. Since he was the tallest of them, he went to the shelf and lifted it down.

"What's that supposed to be?" asked Delphine, perplexed.

"Sure an' it's a peculiar-lookin' bit o' work," Rogan commented.

Christian smiled. "That's because of the artist," he said softly. "Only a few months ago I heard the story from the source. This was done by Mr. Roarke, at the age of four. Perhaps there's something..." He turned it over and examined the bottom while Rogan, Delphine and Julie gawked at one another; there was a symbol of some kind on the bottom of the piece, and he frowned. "I presume this was his way of signing the work, with whatever system of writing was in use where he lived at the time." He showed it to Rogan. "You were there with us when he explained his true age."

Rogan nodded in remembrance and peered at the symbol. "Och...no, it's nothin' ta do with any writin' system—no earthly one anyway. This is a clan symbol: it's uncle's name, the clan name—the symbol for it. Ye've a genuine one-of-a-kind work of primitive art here. An' Leslie, lass, he entrusted it ta you."

Leslie finally looked up, her face and eyes red, and accepted the piece, staring at the symbol carved into the bottom. "I'm almost afraid to take it off this island," she murmured, biting her lip. "Christian, my love, should we keep it here after we move?"

"We can discuss it later, my Rose," he said, resuming his seat beside her. "We'll take it home with us this evening and find a safe place for it, and talk about it later on when we've had some time to recover. For now...do you want to keep reading, or should I?"

"Would you?" she asked in a hoarse little voice, and he nodded, kissing her cheek and reaching for a nearby tissue box, handing it to her. Roarke had dispersed of some paintings, dictating that most of them remain in the house, but that the French-cottage painting by Tattoo that had hung in his bedroom was to be moved to the little museum that held so many other examples of Tattoo's artistry with a paintbrush.

"We'll have to contact Solange," he added after a moment. "Oversight of that museum is to be given to Tattoo's youngest daughter Mireille after she completes school, and she's to be given the cottage that Tattoo lived in when he worked here, as her residence."

"It makes sense," Delphine said. "They were close."

"Like brothers," Julie agreed. "I'm glad he thought of that. Mireille should be thrilled." She took in Leslie's watery smile. "They're still here, aren't they?"

Leslie nodded. "I'll tell them this evening. I don't think there's much else..."

"There's a line about the disposition of a few other bits of artwork Mr. Roarke did while he was here on the island, from what I see," Christian said. "A sketch and a painting or two. Those go to you too, my Rose. That appears to be the last of it."

"Other than the entire island," Rogan added dryly. "Well, cousin, ye're in charge now. What'll ye do first?"

She stared at him; Julie shook her head and chided, "Come on, Rogan, really...uncle's only just gone, and she probably doesn't have the capacity to think right now. Don't worry about things, Leslie. What with the committee and everybody else in place, you don't really have to do anything at all, if you don't want to."

"Right," said Delphine. "Greg and the kids had to go back to Nevada because of work and school, but I'm here for the duration, and I'll make sure Rogan does what he's supposed to and pull off the magic tricks he hasn't quite mastered yet." She sat up then. "Listen, since Tattoo's little girl can't take over supervision of the museum you and uncle set up for Tattoo after he died, you could do that for right now. Then all you'd have to do is let her take over when she gets her diploma and comes back out here."

Leslie, feeling overwhelmed, put her best effort behind a smile. "You're all so...so supportive," she mumbled. "You're so much more efficient than I am. I feel like the wart on the end of a witch's nose."

The others all burst into laughter, and Christian hugged her. "My Rose, it's all right; it's brand-new and scary, I know. But you know perfectly well Mr. Roarke would never want you sitting around letting yourself get lost in your own misery. He was counting on you to maintain his legacy—that's why he left it to you. But here...since it's only the first day, let's give it some time. Delphine can move into the house here, and I'll look into getting that clock and the furniture from your old room ready to move to our house. We can put that canopy bed in Anastasia's room and finally move the futon back to the living room."

"There you go. C'mon, make some plans, Leslie," Delphine urged. "That's what uncle would want you to do, you know."

Leslie met their gazes, Christian's last, and he smiled at her. "Tell you what, my Rose. You look for those sketches and paintings Mr. Roarke left for you, and I'll start calling in regard to moving the furniture. Then Rogan and I can begin taking the bed apart. We'll get this taken care of, and we'll make the transition as smooth as we can."

Slowly Leslie stood up, gazed around the room as if taking it in, then pulled in a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah...I guess since Father's moved on, it's time we did too. Okay...let's get started—we have a long way to go."

Christian grinned and returned her hug. "So we do."


	6. Chapter 6

§ § § - January 31, 2010

By the end of January they had worked out something of a routine, and things were settling into place. The triplets often mentioned how much they missed Roarke, and Leslie spent a lot of time with them remembering him. Rogan and Delphine, after a few minor disagreements over how certain popular fantasies ought to be granted, ended up calling on Leslie to referee their arguments, making her feel more needed. Christian spent a little more time than usual at his office, making preparations to shift his headquarters back to Sundborg where it had all started more than twenty years before. He'd also already sent the curio cabinet he had inherited from his mother on its way back to Lilla Jordsö; recalling the four or five months it had taken his furniture to make the trip here when he'd married Leslie nine years before had decided him to get that taken care of as soon as possible. And he and Leslie had moved the futon out of Anastasia's room and back into the living room, then put together the canopy bed from Leslie's old room at the main house—later to be occupied by Delphine's daughter—and arranged it, along with the night table and desk, around the room for Anastasia when she was older.

Christian and Leslie also spent quite some time communicating with Carl Johan, Amalia, Esbjörn and Anna-Laura via Skype, which since it was free was saving them a good deal of money on telephone calls; the object was where to put everyone once Christian and Leslie brought their children to Lilla Jordsö to live. It had surprised Christian's siblings and in-laws to hear that he wanted to move out of what had previously been Anna-Kristina's suite, but they gave in when Roald took advantage of the news and said he and Adriana were interested in taking it over, as they needed more space. On the final day of January, they learned that Anna-Laura had managed somehow to get a copy of a floor plan for the north wing of the castle, and after some discussion, Leslie thought to ask whether there were living suites off the east corridor. When this met with startled silence, she shrugged and added, "I mean, I know the west corridor has them, but I've wondered for years what rooms are in the east corridor."

Even Christian was surprised by this, enough to make Amalia ask, "Don't you remember, Christian? You explored enough as a child, you should."

"In case you've forgotten," Christian riposted, "my childhood was quite a long time ago. I know the castle library takes up two stories, so that there would be a long stretch of blank wall along the corridor—something I've always thought was just a waste, really, when it would have been far more aesthetically attractive to have had that wall open so that you could look into the library over a railing from the second-floor east corridor. But that's only my opinion. What do the plans say, _äldresyster?"_

"According to these, there's a total of six suites off the east corridor that have windows overlooking the castle grounds, with a view across Kustvägen Västra into the forests and over the hills. There's one directly over the sitting room, then the long unbroken wall that's part of the castle library, and then the other five farther down. The one over the sitting room has two rooms; the others have three rooms apiece." Anna-Laura's voice rose in surprise as she revealed this. "Apparently that's the reason there are fewer suites in that corridor, because the west-facing suites that look out on the North Sea all have only two rooms apiece, and the first and second floors each have ten suites like that."

"Are the three-room suites furnished?" asked Christian.

"I actually don't know—we'll have to look into that," Anna-Laura said, "but we'll do that and let you know. Truly, _ungstebror_ , you _will_ have your privacy in some form, won't you?" Her wry question made everyone laugh.

Christian grinned. "I'm sure the triplets will happily choose their own suites in the west corridor, but for a while at least, I suspect we'll want to keep Anastasia with us. Once she's old enough for her own suite, Leslie and I can consider what to do with the extra room; we won't need a kitchen, but perhaps we could expand the bathroom a bit, or add some built-in shelving...we'll see once we look at them and make a choice. Until then we can just use the suite we have now."

With these plans made, they talked about a few other mundane things, then ended the call so that the Lilla Jordsö group could go to bed, since for them it was late on the night of January 30. It was a Sunday, so the triplets weren't in school; but they rarely seemed interested in speaking with their relatives in Lilla Jordsö, so Christian and Leslie had grown used to having these conversations alone. Now Leslie checked her watch and blew out a sigh. "I guess I'll go back over to the main house and try to track down those sketches and paintings of Father's again," she said.

Christian noticed the weary tone in her voice and smoothed her hair back. "Strange really, that you still haven't found them. Perhaps that was Mr. Roarke's last little jest...giving you a mystery to solve before we leave the island."

"He always knew I wasn't much good at mysteries," Leslie grumbled, and he laughed. "Maybe I'll have someone help me. Delphine might be willing to lend a hand—she's still all alone in that house, because her younger two are in Vegas with their dad till their house sells." She looked up and smirked suddenly. "Besides, Rogan's got a time-travel fantasy this weekend, and he's likely to forget where the time portal is again...so I should probably be around in case I have to show him."

Christian laughed, pulled her to her feet and kissed her. "Well, call me if you find them, then. Good luck, my Rose."

She took the car down to the main house and came into the study for the first time since Roarke's departure to find it deserted; with a shrug, she sat behind the desk and began to go through drawers as thoroughly as she could while trying not to allow the persistent and copious memories to overtake her. The contents were the same as always: letterhead, envelopes, a few rolls of stamps, the date books and ledgers with the leather covers that Roarke had always favored, various keys, a couple of flashlights, a rubber-banded stack of seaplane passes...on and on and on. Rogan had given her the keys to the locked drawers, so she unlocked these and pawed through them, unable to find her quarry and finally giving up. A couple of stacks of mail sat atop the desk; from longtime habit, she started to reach for them, then realized what she was doing and froze.

 _You don't belong here anymore,_ said a voice in her head, one that sounded disturbingly like one of the tribunal members. _You're part of the old regime, and you know the saying: out with the old, in with the new. If your cousin needed a secretary to handle the mail and the fantasy scheduling, he'd have asked you, wouldn't he? Go find what you came here for and get out, and leave the business to the ones who actually have a reason to be here._

Leslie slammed the last desk drawer shut and surged to her feet, yanking open the top drawer of the credenza in the corner and walking her way through hanging folders with no results. The same was true of the other two drawers. Frustrated, angry with herself and the tribunal both, and dangerously close to succumbing to the memories, she turned away and headed upstairs, fighting mental images all the way.

She didn't even bother with her old room, which had been completely emptied of everything, even the curtains at the window; instead she went down to what had once been the TV room and for the moment, still served as such. A few years before, Roarke had had all their VHS tapes converted over to DVD, and Leslie found herself going through these now in a burst of desperation, figuring it was possible Roarke could have left those sketches just about anywhere. But when she came across one DVD, she nearly forgot her reason for being there: it was the conversion of the farewell videotape Tattoo had made for her and Roarke a few months before his death. She stared at the cover, then slowly withdrew it from among the other DVD cases, knowing that in a few seconds her emotions were going to get the better of her after all. Losing Roarke and being reminded of Tattoo's loss, all at the same time, was more than she could take.

Her eyes were sore from crying before she was discovered: Delphine came in and sat beside her, patting her back. "Go ahead and cry it out, Leslie," she advised. "I remember my mom always telling me just to go ahead and let it run its course, and get it out of your system so you can think clearly, without distractions." She fell silent then and just patted Leslie till the younger woman had cried herself out enough to raise her head.

Delphine smiled sadly at her. "We're all going through withdrawal," she said. "I feel like such an intruder in uncle's room, I'm still living out of my suitcase—I haven't put away a single one of my things."

Leslie blinked and smiled in startlement. "Wow," she murmured.

"What're you doing up here?" Delphine asked.

"Trying to find the sketches and paintings Father said he left. Christian thinks he might have hidden them on purpose for some reason. I was going through the DVDs and found this." She showed it to Delphine, who peered at it.

"Oh, wow. Of all the things to dig up at this point. Well, hey...we might as well look together. Rogan's doing rounds so he can avoid checking on the fantasies, and I've got some free time, so let's take a look around. As far as that DVD goes...I think you should take it home with you. I'd bet uncle would've wanted you to have it."

Leslie left the DVD on the table in front of the sofa, and she and Delphine arose and began to go through the storage compartments in the entertainment center. This proved fruitless, so they turned to the small, cramped storage closet and poked through its meager contents. As it turned out, this was where they found two paintings Roarke had done long before Leslie had arrived on the island. Delphine grinned. "Hey, pay dirt!"

"Not all of it," Leslie realized as they dragged out the framed artwork. "There's a note attached to one of them." She pulled an envelope off the back of one frame and pried it open, withdrawing a sheet of letterhead with Roarke's handwriting on it. She read it aloud: _"So you've found the first half of this last bequest! Now you must breach the final barrier to find the remainder."_

" 'Breach the final barrier'? What the heck does that mean?" Delphine wondered.

Leslie frowned, thinking about it. "Maybe he means it's in a room I haven't searched yet—one that wouldn't be an obvious hiding place."

"The dining room?" Delphine suggested dubiously.

"Or maybe down cellar where he mixed up the potions," mused Leslie.

They looked at each other. "Tell you what—you take the cellar, I'll look through the dining room," Delphine suggested. Leslie agreed, and they both hurried down to the first floor, where Leslie continued on to the cellar rooms and began searching among the many oddly labeled bottles sitting on the shelves. As she went through them, she wondered if Roarke had ever gotten around to teaching Rogan how to create potions, and shuddered for some reason. _If he didn't, then it's probably just as well Delphine's here...her powers can make up for the potions,_ Leslie thought, smiling to herself a little.

She scoured the entire cellar lab, along with an adjacent room containing a chair, a floor lamp with a small table attached to it, and a tall bookcase filled with books all printed in the indecipherable looping, spiraling alphabet used to express the written language of Roarke's clan. After some time Delphine came down to see what had happened to her, and ended up helping her go through each and every book, without success.

"Now what?" Leslie groaned, feeling stymied.

"All that's left is the bathroom," said Delphine grumpily.

"Wait a minute..." Leslie breathed, suddenly visited with a realization. "No, that isn't all that's left. We haven't looked in Father's room."

Delphine peered uneasily at her. "Uh...I'll take the bathroom."

Leslie agreed, and they made their way back upstairs, splitting up at the top of the steps. Leslie ventured into what had been Roarke's room till a mere two weeks before, pulling in a deep breath and then grinning in spite of herself to see the bed unmade and covered with Delphine's clothing. An open suitcase sat on the chair that went with the rolltop desk, containing a few more scattered articles of clothing.

Leslie realized as she peered at the desk, the chest of drawers and the nightstand that nobody had dared come in here to clear out the drawers. "Oh, no," she murmured, closing her eyes. Of course Roarke wouldn't have needed clothing wherever he was going. _Not if he's a cloud like those insensitive twits who stole him away from us..._ She shook her head hard, disgusted with herself, and went to the desk first; it seemed the least threatening for some reason.

To her utter amazement, there really wasn't very much in the desk at all. Other than packages of letterhead that Roarke apparently had kept stored in here, there were only a couple of quill pens and an old-fashioned inkwell. Unsure as to what to do with the latter items, she stacked packages of letterhead atop one another and met Delphine in the doorway with them. "Here, you can take these down to the desk in the study," she suggested.

Delphine looked relieved. "Fine by me," she said, accepted the stack and trundled off down the steps. Leslie closed up the desk and eyed the nightstand; it had one drawer, and all she found in there was an empty vial. She recognized it immediately: it had contained the palliative tonic she'd given Roarke when he had been ill with the bone-eating disease. She slipped the vial into her pocket to take back to the cellar potion lab and turned with reluctance to the chest of drawers. The only thing atop it was a plain white cotton runner edged with eyelet lace, looking a little incongruous in such an otherwise masculine room.

For some reason she started with the bottom drawer, actively battling the horrible creeping feeling that she was intruding on her father's privacy. _The last barrier,_ she thought suddenly. _Maybe that means this room. He must have known we'd feel like we were snooping around in his private domain, even though he's not here to care anymore. If I'm going to find the rest of that stuff, it'll have to be in here._ Just then Delphine came in and gasped. "Leslie, what're you doing?"

She looked up and said with meaning, "Breaching the final barrier."

Delphine stared at her, then blinked, as if she understood. "Oh," she mumbled. "Well, then, what do you want me to do?"

"I've already looked in the desk and the nightstand, so I guess all that's left is the closet," said Leslie. Delphine made a dubious face, but she set her jaw before turning to the closet and pulling open the doors to search within.

"Leslie, this is empty," Delphine blurted three seconds later.

"Totally?" asked Leslie, astonished.

"Well, I see some shoeboxes on the top shelf, but...no clothes. All the white suits are gone, and there aren't any shoes either." Delphine sounded relieved. "I'll go through the boxes and see if anything's there."

 _Thank you, Father, for at least handling that,_ Leslie thought, pulling open the bottom drawer and finding it as empty as the closet. This was true of the next three drawers as well; the top one, however, made her freeze before she let out a cry and began to sob.

"Leslie, what's the matter?" Delphine exclaimed, bounding over to her.

"Look," Leslie wailed, and lifted out the gold pocket watch on its chain that Roarke had always worn in his vest. Delphine sucked in a breath and her hand drifted to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears for the first time.

"T-take that home with you too," Delphine said in a shaky voice, folding Leslie's hand over the watch. "And this too..." She plucked out the heavy silver chain that had encircled Roarke's right wrist for many years. But Leslie was too overwhelmed, and this time Delphine couldn't hold up either. They stood grieving aloud for several long minutes.

Finally Leslie shoved her hand into her pocket, burying the watch and both chains inside it and turning away from the chest of drawers. "You can...you can settle in, if you want," she managed through a badly blocked-up nose and her lingering tears. "All the drawers are empty, and you and Gr-greg will be living here and th-this'll be your room, so..." She shook her head and let it fall forward, unable to speak.

"Ev-everybody on this island is gonna hate that tribunal before we know it," Delphine muttered, and despite themselves they both laughed a little. "Well, all that's left is the shoeboxes now. Come on, let's get it over with."

In the bottom of the second box, Leslie found it: a leather folder about the size of a 5"×7" photo frame, which she opened to reveal two more sketches and another note. _"Now you have found everything,"_ she read aloud, her voice still thick from crying. _"My final request of you is to be happy, above all, and remember me with a smile. Also...tell Delphine she need not feel guilty about taking over my bedroom, for it's hers now."_

Leslie couldn't help but smirk, and Delphine's mouth dropped open; then they both began to laugh, feeling slightly hysterical. "Well," said Delphine, sniffling a little, "I guess he told me, all right. What're the sketches?"

One of them, Leslie found, was of a small grass hut raised off the ground by columns, against a setting of thickly clustered palms; the other made her gasp. "It's...it's me! Me and Tattoo!" She showed the sketch to Delphine, who stared at it; it showed Leslie unwrapping a painting with Tattoo looking on beside her.

"Wow...I had no idea uncle was that good," Delphine said. "You should have those framed, both of them." She smiled. "Now that you've got the last of it, you go on home and make Christian lend you a crying shoulder. I can tell he's nutty in love with you, Leslie. You have probably the world's sexiest guy for a husband." She shot a glance at the doorway, as if someone had been there listening, before adding, "Don't tell Greg I said that. Go on home." She winked; Leslie grinned, arose and left the room, detouring long enough to pick up the paintings and the DVD of Tattoo's farewell, then replacing the vial from her pocket in the cellar potion lab, before leaving the house.

Christian met her in the foyer as she was stepping out of her shoes, and regarded her with concern, taking the paintings from her and leaning them against the wall. "Are you all right, my darling? Did you find it?"

She nodded. "Maybe more than I bargained for, really. We had to go through Father's room to find the last of it." He winced on her behalf, and she smiled, to her own surprise. "It wasn't that bad, actually. He'd...he must have already disposed of his clothing before that damn tribunal came for him—all the drawers and the closet were empty. But this..." She dug into her pocket and withdrew the watch and the silver chain. "Look."

Christian gingerly removed the watch from Leslie's palm and opened it with care. "I had no idea...I had seen him consult this watch so many times, but who would have known just how fine it really is. It's a very old and extremely exquisite model—and it would have been very expensive even when it was brand-new. And he kept it looking new, too."

"He must have left it on purpose," Leslie murmured. "I think he meant for you to have it, my love. You keep it."

Christian stared at her, then hugged her hard, rocking her back and forth a little. "I know how much pain this is bringing you, my Leslie Rose, and that makes this all the more precious a gift. Thank you for this."

In time they regained enough emotional equilibrium to examine the paintings that Roarke had left behind—colorful tropical landscapes—and then the sketches. Christian smiled broadly at the second one. "The tropical ones are well done, but I think this one is my favorite. I recognize you—is that Tattoo with you?"

Leslie nodded. "I never knew he did this. That was on my fifteenth birthday, the first time Tattoo gave me one of his paintings. I think Father took a picture of me unwrapping it and must have done the drawing from that."

"Which painting did he give you?" Christian asked.

"The one that's hanging in the library upstairs," she said, "the one of the Champs-Elysées in spring, with all the colors."

Christian looked amazed. "He gave you that? It's exquisite—of all the paintings we have in this house, I think that's my favorite."

"He said he thought it would brighten up my room," Leslie remembered. "I didn't have a lot of stuff, but just hanging it on the wall really did improve the entire look of that room. So it's your favorite? You have good taste." She grinned unexpectedly, and he let out a laugh of relief and hugged her again.

They examined Roarke's two paintings, and Leslie decided one would go to Susanna and the other to Karina. "I'll keep this other tropical sketch and Father's wrist chain for Tobias. I guess Anastasia's legacy would be the furniture from my old room."

Christian nodded and concurred, "That sounds reasonable to me." He cradled her face between his hands and settled a kiss on her lips. "I know you're overwhelmed with what seems like the weight of the world—this island, your emotions...but whatever happens, you need to remember just one thing. Ask me anything, my Rose, anything. And if I don't know the answer, I'll find a way to get it. I think Mr. Roarke deliberately chose to leave all this to you, not just because he officially made you his child and thus his heir, but because he knew you could handle it, and he knew you wouldn't have to do it alone. I can remember a number of occasions on which he said that you're stronger than you think you are, and he was right. Strength doesn't mean you have to do it all alone; you're just as strong when you admit your own limitations and ask for help. I'm not sure you realize how far you've come, ever since that day you were orphaned. Mr. Roarke saw it perhaps better than anyone else, and I'm sure that's a large part of why he left you his island."

"You might be right, my love," Leslie mused, "but what you missed is that you're the source of so much of my strength. Just to know you're here, and ready and willing to help, is enough to keep me going. I'll need a lot of it, and more after we move...so many new phases of my life to go through." She pulled in a breath and met his gaze. "But knowing I'm going through them with you makes all the difference."

His smile warmed her, and she returned his hug, gazing across the room and through the French windows, over the treetops and out to sea. _All those lives you touched,_ she thought, _all the people you helped and made happy and brought together over all those years before and after I came here...I wonder if they really had any idea. But they knew you only for a weekend. I knew you for the better part of my lifetime. You granted me a fantasy after all—you gave me my life._ With her head on her husband's shoulder, she sent a silent but heartfelt thanks to Roarke; and then she smiled, sure he had received it somehow.

 **THE END**

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 _See you over on FictionPress...I am working on the first chapter of the fourth book in the_ Royal Family Chronicles _series as you read this!_


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